Whilst dozing on the comfy spot yesterday afternoon it occurred to me just how good my life is. My two-legs has given me a bounty of places to curl up and nap or spend hours licking my salt and pepper hair. It was not too long ago that I did not even have a place to rest my weary bones. Those were dark days…
So as big-little-bro and I chased the BIRDS in our sleep, something dark and forboding drifted in the back of my mind. Something I was forgetting. Something I should have know by now. Something that was going to hurt.
Hark! A jingling at the door! My two-legs is home. Must greet him. What? What couch? Oh, the comfy place? But, it is where I sleep when you are away. It is sooooo soft and nice. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
And now its time to hide under the little table. That is what I was trying to remember, sleeping in the comfy place gets me smacks on the butt. Sigh.
The spot is his. For now. I suppose I can find comfort on the other couch, or the big comfy chair, or the giant circle pup chair, or my bed, or his bed, or little-big-bro’s bed, or the cozy corner. Hmmm, decisions decisions.
It has been nearly 8 years since I last posted to this, my most neglicted of projects. (FYI, I age faster than my 2-legs; however, 1 two-legs year does not equal 7 4-legs years. For my size and age, it is about 5 years per one two-legs year.) A great deal has changed since those heady days when I was first whisked away from beautiful sunny paradise in the hills to live with my brooding, sullen 2-legs in this cold, noisy, watery abomination called Seattle. I have marked off a pretty good little corner of my world, made many new friends, some interesting enemies, and destroyed at least a dozen bears.
Why have not you heard about my adventures? My two-legs has been “busy” with his new skirted two-legs. It used to be I talk, he types. He did not always get it right, but his heart was in the right place. Now, I talk and no one types. What is a dog to do?
Learn to type!
I hear you thinking, “You can’t type. You’re a dog. You don’t even have thumbs!” Ah! But you don’t know the awesome power that is typingweb.com. In just a few short months (days for 2-legs’) I was able to power through and go from 2 WPM @ 50% accuracy, to 30 WPM @ 97% accuracy. Now I don’t need my 2-legs anymore.*
My overall goal is to backdate some entries. My memory is pretty non-existent so we will see how this works out. 2-legs has a pretty good memory, so I think I just ask him.
*I still need him for food, shelter, walks, treats, bears, playtime, scratches and (ugh) baths.
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Why does my two-legs do horrible, horrible things to me? I show him nothing love and yet he continually terrorizes me. Take today for example:
I was sitting around, resting. Big-little-bro was destroying something. And my two-legs was sitting on the couch watching Futurama. He looks over to me, “Ruff, you’re getting pretty shaggy. I think you need a haircut.”
A haircut? Why does that word sound so familiar? “And you know what happens after a haircut? A Bath!!”
Bath? Bath?!? Nooooo! Damn you! The water is so loud, and it gets in my nose and ears. I just cannot stand it, I want to die.
I try to hide but he always finds me. Big-little-bro is no help, he just cowers in the corner. He knows what a bath is too, and he likes them even less than I do. The haircut is no picnic either. I am pretty sure I passed out while he ravaged me with that buzzing beastly thing. The next thing I remember is being lowered into that white fiberglass pit. Naked and scared. *guwarrrrrKswissssshhhhh* Indoor rain pours out of the metallic serpant head. He could at least let it warm up first. Then comes the soap. *scrub*scrub*scrub* This is torture, it has to be torture. The end is near, freedom is coming. *hnkft*snarf*pftht* Water up my nose. Must get it out. Ah, towel time. Wait, what is doing. This is no time for pictures two-legs!
I am so hurt by his attempt to bathe me.
Well great, now have that recorded for posterity. Can you please just dry me off and let me run around to dry? Must break free of this place! I paw open door and shoot out of the bathroom like a bolt. Bounding from couch to chair to couch to bed to chair to floor to big-little-bro to couch in effort to drive all of the water out of me. That. Was. So. Stressful.
Some 4-legs like the water. I loathe the water. The only thing I want to do with it is drink it, but even then, it must be contained in a shallow dish or bowl so it cannot attack me. I am going back to sleep now. That totally took all of my energy to panic and be upset over bathtime. My hair is not grey on its own… he stresses it into me.
This is going to be a short post, it has been a long week.
My two-legs has been spending a significant amount of his time with a skirted two-legs. Which leaves plenty of time for me to sit and pout. They met awkwardly a short while ago when I was supposed to be out marking my trees. He exchanged some un-witty banter with her and then clumsily found out where she worked so he could hang out there. I suppose he figures if he waits long enough she will come around. Apparently it worked cuz here we are…
Me. Alone in the cold apartment. (I suppose I should be grateful I have a bed now.)
Him, with her, and that mongrel of hers. I not a breedist but what does he, a pound-puppy, have over me, a pure bred schnauzer. Big clownish ears and huge drooling tongue is what.
*grumble*grumble*grumble*
I miss home.
I had a nice little fluffy bed where Bear and I could curl up and just doze for hours. It was right at my height (I am pretty short) in a safe little corner. And if I was not happy there, I could always find soft couch or a warm body to sleep on. Things have changed.
In this cold, drafty, third floor apartment I have to fight for comfy spots with my two-legs. Lets make a list shall we:
- the floor (carpeted yes but boring and I could be stepped on)
- his bed (right by the constantly open windows, pretty hard too)
- his small chair (where he is 98% of the time he is home)
- the big chair (my spot of choice when it is not covered in his junk)
So there we have it folks. Four sub-standard places for me to nap. Nothing safe, nothing cozy. Woe is me!
Ah but what have we here. My two-legs brought home new things. Ooo, treats. Yay! a new Bear! Hmmm, looks like he got some stuff too. Yipee…
Wait, there is something else at the bottom. Looks soft. Just about my size. Smells right. Where’s he taking it? The corner by the table… sweet, three walls of protection. Lets try this out. I will just adjust the pillows here, move this bit of padding a bit more over here, stretch out this bit here, circle three times to flatten it all out, and down. Aaaahhhh. Not bad. Not bad.
Life can be pretty sweet sometimes.